arsonist's lullabye
by lee.s.pluto
Summary: dont you ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash / dark!leo au based heavily around arsonist's lullabye by hozier / not really horror technically, just spooky ig / tw;; mentions of abuse, character death, lots of burning


When I was a child, and my mother would go to work in the shop, she would either take me with her, or have me babysat.

_Tia. _Gods, what an awful babysitter. Some of her favorite activities included having me sit in a lit fireplace, provoking rattlesnakes, and burning my hands into a table. And occasionally, someone who looked almost exactly like her- but somehow different. Perhaps a tint more green. And when the slightly different Tia came around, I knew my afternoon was to be spent lighting various items on fire.

Not that I minded. My fire was a _part _of me. It was what made me who I was.

I spent so much time with Tia, and with not-quite-Tia, that sometimes, I'd hear their voices in my head– and I'm pretty sure it was always not-quite-Tia. She would scream angry, fiery thoughts at me. Occasionally, real-Tia would sing in my mind to pacify me, but it hardly ever worked.

In one of those angry, screaming, spitting matches not-quite-Tia had with me in my mind, one that took place in my mother's shop, I had gotten so mad, I had burst into flames. And I had stumbled. And the shop had lit on fire.

All I can remember from the next few moments are flashes: struggling to escape with my mother, the door locking her in, and me out, not-quite-Tia showing up, and becoming more plantlike. She flashed me a grin and disappeared.

* * *

When I was a child, I lived on the streets after my family abandoned me, calling me a devil for my mother's death, spitting out insults as if even that was too much or an acknowledgement of me. I was sent to foster home after foster home. Each one was progressively worse.

So I would light the house on fire, with the occupants inside. What did I care? My fire was my power. They tried to take away any power I had, belittling me and abusing me. I didn't have to take that. I was far more powerful than any of them.

I relived the story quite a few times; kid sent to abusive foster home. Kid gets tired of the home. Kid locks the family inside, lights the home on fire. Kid lives on the streets until the police catch him, and he makes up some pathetic sob story. Repeat.

And yet every time, when I lit the house on fire, I would find myself staring into it, unable to look away. It captivated me, spoke to me. Spoke _of _me. A testament to my power, even if nobody else knew it.

One time, as I stared at the fire pouring out, and the smoke rising up, I waited a little too long. I was caught. I came up with the best sob story I could, but it was still decided a reform school would be the best choice for my next location. They couldn't prove any of those fiery deaths were me. But they could prove I was troubled. And that I had been taken in for graffiti. And that fire followed me everywhere.

* * *

All you have is your fire, I would remind myself. Well, I also had Piper and Jason. But I didn't really count them; I didn't _have _them. They weren't a tool for me to use. They were more like... the first companions I'd had since my mother died. I didn't fully trust them. But they were there.

_No_, a voice would say. _You have nobody. Just your fire. _Not-quite-Tia. She never left me. _And your goal: free me._

It was supposedly my life's mission. To _free _Tia from some vague place.

She would constantly egg me on. Light the house on fire. I would. Steal from that old lady. I would. Sometimes, I'd try to argue. Sometimes, I'd flat out refuse.

That was an important lesson for me: always keep your demon on a leash.

Not long after I met Piper and Jason, we were sent on this whole quest to free Hera- Tia. I asked if she was not-quite-Tia, too. That deeply concerned her, especially when she learned I still talked to not-quite-Tia.

But I would soon go on a quest to find not-quite-Tia. I just didn't know it yet.

* * *

When I was 16, I accepted my fire more completely than I ever had. I was a seventh wheel. The odd man out on a boat full of couples. There were two things that made me helpful on that quest: my mechanics skills, and my fire power.

I used them so readily on monsters, lighting them on fire without a second thought, that I was _becoming _fire. I smelled of gasoline. If I argued with one of the seven too much, sparks would start to fly, and soon, an intense flame would burn. I fought to control it, but they saw the monster struggling to escape.

I was the odd man out. I was a slave to my own power.

Nico, I think, understood me. We would take sometimes, late at night. After I had met Calypso, as I worked on Festus. We would talk about many things; being a slave to our powers. Being the odd man out. Both on the ship, where everyone was in a relationship except us, and at camp, where we were exploited, avoided because of our power.

And while he understood me mostly, I still don't think we completely got each other. For one, he was from an entirely different time. And for another, he could grow, and stop being a slave to his power. I could see the potential, even if he couldn't. But I knew I would always be my fire.

* * *

All I had was my fire. Sort of.

I reached my goal. At that final battle to stop the rise of Gaea. Not-quite-Tia insisted I let just one drop of blood hit the ground. So I did.

It didn't feel quite right letting Gaea take over, though. My friends needed this home. And maybe I could try to settle down. Stop jumping from place to place and just have a happy, normal life. And Nico was finding his shot to not be a slave, and I couldn't take that from him. And Chiron had tried to take care of me when I was at camp.

And I needed to die to find Calypso again.

And my rule: keep your demons on a leash. I couldn't let Gaea rule me. So I went against her. It was a painful death. Fiery, and a little more Octavian than I'd prefer. But I don't think the Greek fire thing was a coincidence. It was the one fire I couldn't control, the one that hurt me. A bit of karma, I think. But I didn't feel bad for my previous victims; they all had it coming.

Festus brought me back, and we started the search for Calypso.

And we found her.

* * *

When I was a man, Calypso and I had escaped the island, and had made it to mainland America. It had been mere months since Gaea.

We were in love. My days of being controlled by my fire were over. I would be a better man for Calypso.

Except the moment we landed in America, we began to argue. And it escalated. And my fire began to take control of me, until I lashed out. And then I watched her burn to death before me.

I had nothing else to do but keep heading towards camp. They were expecting me now, and Calypso, but I could make up a story to explain that away.

I did make it back to camp. I told them about a tragic accident that happened when Calypso and I tried to escape the island, and the gods struck her down in their neverending wrath.

There was pity coming from everyone. Percy, who I found out actually knew Calypso, cried. Annabeth gave me a hug. Piper did, too.

Nico got a look on his face when I showed up, Calypso-less. It was shocked, and a bit sad. And when I told my story, it became suspicious. _Of course. _I sent my message when we left. He would've felt her dying after I announced us coming.

That night, I went to his cabin, cloaked in the night sky. The rest of the camp slept peacefully. He confronted me, asking gently but firmly for the real story.

I knew I wouldn't have been able to lie. So I told him everything, from the very beginning. In all our talking, we never told each other about our childhoods.

The look of horror on his face grew as I continued my story. By the time I finished, I knew that ashes would follow this tale.

* * *

_All I have is my fire_, I told myself, watching the smoke drifting into the sky. Even from beyond Thalia's tree, I could feel the heat of the fire burning in the camp. It glowed like a bonfire.

As I turned away, ready for my next home, I reminded myself of my rule: don't ever tame your demons, but always keeo them on a leash.


End file.
